PatBob- More than Our Parts
by Miles W
Summary: Patrick thought he had everything he wanted: respect, followers, what else did he need? But he soon realizes he's missing a piece of his heart. Based on The SpongeBob Musical by Tina Landau and Kyle Jarrow. Pairing(s): PatBob; slight Patward (Squidrick?).


**Another one from Patrick's POV. More Squidrick or Patward or whatever it's called than PatBob but whatever. I hate to admit, but I find Musical!Patrick more fun to write than Musical!SpongeBob. I seem to get into Patrick's mind better, seeing as I share all his insecurities (and I have broken up with a past boyfriend of mine and it was mostly my fault due to selfishness). I also wish I had a conscience like Squidward who could tell me to my face that I needed to go talk to him before it was too late. Still love Musical!SpongeBob but I can't seem to find what drives him as much other than ''Just a Simple Sponge'' so I've been stumped on writing fics from his POV. Pat to me has more emotional drive, esp. the songs ''Super Sea Star Savior'' and ''I Guess I Miss You''.**

 **This one's the shortest one so far, more hurt/comfort than romance. Takes place between ''Super Sea Star Savior'' and ''I Guess I Miss You''.**

**Fic belongs to me.**

 **SpongeBob Musical belongs to Kyle Jarrow (who wrote the book).**

 **SpongeBob © Nickelodeon.**

* * *

''Dammit,'' Patrick hollered, careful not to pound his bear-like fists into the nearby wall, where Squidward's most prized portrait hung—although he wanted to, very much so—''I think-''

''Patrick,'' Squidward rudely interrupted, completely disregarding the other's feelings, ''You don't think at all.''

''-I'm falling in love with him,'' Patrick finished, talking over Squidward. Just then, Squidward looked concerned. Not _acting_ concerned as he usually did, but _really_ , _genuinely_ concerned.

''Oh my gosh, I'm **so** sorry.'' It was hard to tell, with that English accent, if he was being sarcastic or not.

''So am I.'' Patrick really meant it, too. He was turning into a crazy lovesick fool.

''What are you going to do?''

''Should I tell him?''

Squidward threw up his hands, hitting Patrick upside his head. ''What are you, nuts? He'll never speak to you again! I'm surprised **I'm** even speaking to you!''

''What should I do then,'' the starfish inquired, ''If _you're_ so smart?''

Squidward folded his arms across his chest and shook his head. ''Patrick, Patrick, Patrick,'' he chided as though he were speaking to a toddler who narrowly escaped the play pen, ''You may not have noticed, but while you insist on spilling me your entire uninteresting life story, might I remind you I majored in _art_ , not psychology? As you can see, it has landed me this _prestigious_ job. I can't actually offer you any professional help, but I can sure as hell stand here and pretend like I care.''

Patrick frowned. He didn't appreciate the sarcasm. ''C'mon, Squid.''

''Alright,'' Squidward snapped, but he quickly softened, putting a strong hand on Patrick's shoulder, although he seemed disgusted by the forced gesture. ''Just wait awhile. It's the best you can do. Wait and see if he feels the same. If not, I'd find someone else to chase in the mean time, rather than risk a broken heart and possibly losing your best friend. Trust me, kid, been there, done that. I'm older and wiser than you, I know what I'm talking about.'' Patrick waited to see if Squidward would say more but when he didn't:

''Was that sarcasm?'' He could never tell with Squidward.

Squidward's usually bored expression didn't even change. ''No, Patrick. No it wasn't.''

* * *

That was a week ago, before Bikini Bottom's very existence became threatened by an active volcano. They had just the end of that day, and SpongeBob was on his way up that killer mountain to stop it from erupting. At least he wasn't alone. At least he had Sandy. Patrick should have gone with him but a few angry words were said between them and now he was gone, gone to his death and where was Patrick? Still down below (on the ground where it was safe, yes, but Patrick might as well have sunk down to the underworld where he belonged. You couldn't sink lower than that). He wasn't alone either. He was surrounded now by a group of sardines who claimed he was their savoir. Initially, he let his mind deceive him into believing that this is what he wanted: someone to listen to him, to regard him as wiser than the rest, even though deep down, he knew he wasn't. SpongeBob had a right to leave. If he were standing in his shoes, he'd leave himself too. Right now, he didn't even recognize himself. He had turned into a selfish monster in what seemed like overnight. Most of all, he missed SpongeBob. He missed him more than he thought possible, more than he thought a person could be missed. Now that he was swarmed by a crowd of admirers, he felt lonelier than ever. He'd rather be alone than lonely.

''You're a damn fool,'' he heard a voice say. At first, he assumed a voice was speaking to him in the back of his head but when he turned and saw Squidward standing below the makeshift throne the sardines had built for Patrick, he knew it was the octopus who had spoken. ''You know how ridiculous you look in that get-up?'' he continued, indicating Patrick's colorful robes. ''Look in a mirror, huh?''

''Be gone!'' one of the sardines jeered at Squidward. ''No commoner dare stand two feet before the guru!''

''Is that what you call him?'' Squidward sneered. ''I beg to differ. That guy up there ain't no 'guiding light'. Why, he ain't nothing but a stupid kid.''

The sardines moved forward, pushing against Squidward in fury like the devoted tunnel-visioned pupils that they were. ''You dare speak of Teacher in that tone!'' they chimed together, like a Greek chorus. ''Insult our Master, and let lightning strike you down from the glorious Heavens! And yet _you_ are fool enough, it seems, to _dare_ to war with Neptune's chosen vessel—''

It sounded so phony and rehearsed that Patrick could bear it no longer. ''ENOUGH!'' he screamed at them. ''Just shut up.''

Startled, the sardines stepped back. ''But, Teacher,'' they pleaded.

'' He's my friend,'' Patrick continued. ''And I wanna hear whatever he has to say. I command you to let him pass.'' Begrudgingly, they did.

''As you wish, Master,'' they sang together in low voices. ''Any friend of yours is a friend of ours.'' They clearly didn't mean it but whatever Patrick said, they obeyed like dogs on a leash. Squidward parted them like the red sea, approaching Patrick's throne.

''Can't you tell these guys to piss off?'' Squidward asked.

Patrick looked at his followers, all silently encircling them, eyes downcast. They could see no evil, but no doubt, they'd hear it. ''Okay,'' he said, and with one wave of his hand, ''I bid you farewell. Leave us be.'' Without protest this time, they dispersed in a robotic dance. Patrick was glad they were gone. He was beginning to feel stifled. ''Geez,'' he said to Squidward and jumped off his throne. ''Am I glad to see you.'' And he surprised himself by wrapping his aloof neighbor in a warm embrace. Squidward, of course, didn't return the hug but Patrick was used to that. ''What a relief to finally talk to someone who doesn't speak in a million voices at the same time, someone who feels like an individual, with his own ideas. Y'know, I wish those guys would disagree with me once in awhile, it's kinda scary how they follow everything I say. It doesn't even seem _human_.''

Squidward shrugged in Patrick's arms, or at least tried to. ''It's what you wanted, right? You're a court jester who wanted to be King. You happy now?''

Patrick let go of him. ''No, I'm not. I'm miserable.'' He climbed back up on his throne and reached out a hand to Squidward to help him up but the other didn't take his hand. ''It's awful, Squidward. I miss—''

''SpongeBob, I know.'' The way Squidward rolled his eyes it looked like he knew something but wasn't sharing.

''Did you talk to him?''

''No,'' Squidward said but Patrick could tell he was lying. Patrick jumped off his throne once more and took hold of Squidward by his shirt collar.

''You're gonna tell me the truth, damn you: did ya talk to him?'' He didn't like to resort to violence but there was no other way to wrestle any honesty out of Squidward, he who preferred to remain like a convent nun in a vow of silence, with lips pursed.

''I saw him right before he left,'' Squidward confessed. ''But I didn't stop to talk to him, what d'ya think? 'Oh hullo, lovely day, SpongeBob, would you care for a spot of tea before you push on yer long journey, aye?' '' And here, Squidward purposely mocked himself—speaking in such a way that Westerners assumed Englishmen should sound like but never do—pulling off a combination of a stereotypical posh dialect mixed with cockney and Yorkshire rather than the loose, rapidly disappearing Suffolk accent he normally spoke with. In his normal voice, he added, ''Will you let go of me, now, you twit?''

Patrick loosened his grip around Squidward and set him down, not even realizing that he had raised the twig-like man above the ground. He didn't know his own strength half the time. ''What did he look like?''

''What d'ya mean? He was all piss vinegar. After the two of you quarreled like a married couple yesterdi, I wouldn't be surprised.''

''I'm sorry, Squid,'' he said. ''I'm just a mess inside right now.'' And he sat on the ground, legs crossed as a Buddhist would when praying. ''I'd rather pretend I'm something else...something other than these broken parts. I wish I could just...wake up one day and be someone else for a change, live someone else's life...you ever feel that?'' Squidward sighed and sat next to him.

''All the time,'' he said, and forced a sad smile. Now they had something in common But the smile faded as soon as it came. ''But you gotta be careful what you wish for. Look around. Where are ya now? Without a friend. Why? 'Cause ya wished for something that was right in front of ya the whole damn time.''

''I guess I just didn't want him to see how fucked up I am,'' Patrick admitted. ''Excuse my French. I can't even look at myself half the time. I don't know what he sees in me.''

''Your guess is as good as mine,'' Squidward muttered then quickly added, ''But maybe you was good enough for him. You ever think of that? Maybe your broken parts were enough. Maybe you wasn't broken to him, maybe he loved that 'bout ya 'cause he wanted to fix ya up and make you see that you were more than your parts. Sometimes you see everything you wish you had...and it's right there. It's right there. Right in front of you. You didn't need those religious nuts to make ya see that, love.''

Did Squidward hit his head? He never once called him ''love'' before. In fact, Patrick barely noticed, in all the years knowing him, that Squidward ever spoke in such a distinct ''English'' way. His speech was oftentimes more American than English, but beside that, ''love'' or any affectionate term never made its way in Squidward's vocabulary, maybe unless he was praising himself, of course. Come to think of it, he didn't know _any_ Englishmen who said the word ''love''. The world was ending and it's true what they say. It changes people. Patrick laughed. ''What hallmark card did you copy that from?'' Then his laughter turned to tears. ''Lord, why do you let me love him so much so he can hurt me so bad? Why?'' And he buried his face in his hands. He didn't mean that directed towards Squidward. It was a prayer only meant for Neptune's ears, if there was such a thing, whoever was up there listening, if anyone was listening at all. He felt thin arms around his shoulders and looked up to find Squidward awkwardly hugging him.

''Hey, no time for tears,'' he said. ''Neptune can't help ya, kid, you can only help yerself. Y'know where he is. Go get him, stupid. Go after him before it's too late. Ya ain't gonna have much of a 'amara anyhow. You can't ruin now. Now's all ya got.''

Patrick smiled through his tears. He didn't know what had gotten into Squidward, but maybe a little bit of SpongeBob was finally rubbing off on him. It didn't last long. Squidward returned to his usual sour self but Patrick could tell he was bluffing it. Patrick never understood why SpongeBob held Squidward in such high regard before, but now he saw that underneath that hard exterior, he had a heart somewhere. ''Thanks, Squiddy,'' Patrick said, using SpongeBob's nickname and hugged Squidward one more time. ''SpongeBob was right.''

''Huh? Right 'bout what? Ya brats talkin' 'bout me behind my back, is that it?'' Squidward pretended to be angry, but in all actuality, he was really curious. ''Well. What did he say?''

And here, Patrick had to fight the giggles. ''That you're not a bitch, you just look like one.''

Fin


End file.
